


Just a Spoonful of Sugar

by WizzyPieHigh9



Series: Damian Acts - Batfam Reacts [8]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Damian Wayne Feels, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Sickfic, Updated with Fanart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:26:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27113959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WizzyPieHigh9/pseuds/WizzyPieHigh9
Summary: "A robin feathering his nest, has very little time to rest! While gathering his bits of twine and twig, though quite intent in his pursuit he has a merry tune to toot! He knows a song will move the job along - forrrrr-" He smiles at the second verse's lyrics as he hunts through his nightstand drawer.
Relationships: Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne
Series: Damian Acts - Batfam Reacts [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1789486
Comments: 6
Kudos: 20





	Just a Spoonful of Sugar

**Author's Note:**

> This was a prompt suggested by 'Shils', (so prompt request goes to them) and they asked for an,...  
> "...Batfamily reacting to Damian clinging to Bruce all day and them finding it kind of weird but also cute maybe Damian is sick or is just having bad day lol he just wants his father"
> 
> *Looks at the date when the prompt was requested* *blinks* Has that MUCH TIME REALLY PASSED?  
> Exactly 345 days to be exact... Almost a whole year... ◉_◉  
> In all seriousness, I intended to write this and post this much much muchhhhh earlier. Life just got in the way, and some other things got in the way of me doing so... and well ಠ⌣ಠ I have no excuse for my self besides I had always meant to write it, but didn't realize it would take so long.  
> Ok... time to stawp da chit chat. (･.◤) lol. I hope ya enjoy. *Gently Places a box of poptarts by you and backs away slowly*

Light barging into the room was really not so good.

Headache? Check.

Sore all over? Double check.

Regretting the fact of unexpectedly waking up so early? Triple check...

...

Groaning, he placed an arm dramatically over his forehead. Just who was in control of the sledge hammer walloping his skull this morning? Batman would like to know so that a real headache could be demonstrated. Ugh. Scratch that, he would just call Clark to pummel the guy. Desperation demanded desperate measures.

But alas, it was but the wee hours of the morning causing such a terrible headache. Well, @#$%. A Tylenol would be nice he supposed.

Surely this wasn't a foreshadow for the rest of the day. It better not be. Today he was in no mood to be trifled with. In mid-motion of rolling over he paused grumbling.

Wait. Was that... Titus? 

No, it couldn't be. Titus couldn't open a door. Well, the last time he checked that was.

Jolting, senses that had been paralyzed by sleep finally began to kick in. Hmm, what could that small bit of extra weight pressing into his side be th- Oh, it was Damian. The little rises and falls of someone breathing deeply determined quickly his deductions without him even having to open his eyes... Thankfully. The rising sun glaring through an open window was bad enough with his eyes closed.

Damian was up to demanding his katana back again. A groan bubbled up in his throat. Well probably. Heh, he'd would just have to take that butterfly knife away too if need be. That would teach the stubborn boy. Well actually, Damian would probably just run off and find something more dangerous just like he always does. Idiotic boy. Always looking for trouble as trouble seemed to be always looking for him.

How does one reprimand your kids without an Alfred around? Please... someone, anyone tell him.

Wait.

Damian in a sneak attack? Nah, the kid was doing inefficient job at pinning him down. Also, an even worse job at waking him up. Heavy sleep might come to him naturally, but surely it wasn't that hard for him to wake up. Normally, the loud ruckus Damian made for his demands were so loud that it not only woke everyone in the manor, but Clark would even tease him about it the next day.

'How about you get the boy another dog Bruce?' Clark would say. Or, 'How about you allow the boy to run about the city, I'll keep an eye out on him.', 'How about you allow three homeless kittens into your home Bruce? How can you be so heartless?', 'Why not give in and allow Damian to wear those flying boots Wayne Tech created? Just once?' 'How about-'

With the usual growl in response and his hand reaching closer to a lead lined pouch on his belt Superman usually closed the topic... quickly. Very quickly.

Perhaps this was just Titus then? No, it was much too heavy to be Titus. Then again, it was much too light to be anything but Damian. Though, there was a lacking odor of dog breath. Which, dog breath could either mean Titus or even Jason in most cases, so that crossed those two potentials off the list.

With a sigh he began to muster up the courage to sit up. After this week, he really didn't want to get up for at least a day... or a month.

Pain.

Sitting up as quickly as a man who had all his bones broken could muster, he raised an eyebrow upon seeing who the perpetrator really was. Hm. So, they didn't just call him a detective for nothing did they? And this was being without his daily quota of coffee. Amazing.

Well, now seeing that it was indeed Damian; there was confusion mingled with concern. Questions such as, _'Why?'_ , begin to circle his mind. Staring at his sons resting 'I won't kill you' face, he looked around the room as if to find the answers scrawled upon the walls.

How come Damian was here? Damian didn't come into his room last night, or at least from what he could remember. Last night coming home had been such a blur that he could barely recall any of it. Actually, scratch that, this whole week had been a blur with Joker escaping Arkham again.

@#$% psychotic clown.

If Damian had even attempted at demanding his katana back last night, he would have known, Without. A. Shred. Of. Doubt. The chaos Damian causes could very well wake the dead as Jason has never failed to testify to anyone before. Well, it was highly doubtful that anyone could sleep through the fiasco of having a knife held under your jaw anyway. Plus, with no butterfly knife to be found among the sheets something definitely was wrong. Highly Suspect behavior. And no, it wasn't just the remnants of drool collected in a patch under his sons head that was wrong.

Reaching over, he spotted some of the pain killers Alfred had left on the night stand. Thank God.

Dry swallowing them, he quickly glanced back at Damian as he heard a slight snore. Or was that a wheeze? Ouch, his head twinged. Great, Alfred was already vehemently tsking him in his mind, and it was what, six thirty in the morning? Well, later he would make sure to drink some water. Nonetheless, right now he didn't feel like disturbing Damian just yet for school. At least not till he had figured out what was off. The behavior of sneaking into your parents room might seem just fine and dandy for any ordinary child. Its a common occurrence with nightmares as so he had found out with Richard and his other kids, but with Damian, well, he was rather 'unique' when it came to those sort of circumstances.

Taking a closer look at the small face beside him, he rubbed his own eyes blinking. Something was off wasn't there? Damian did look a bit peaked didn't he? Or perhaps he was exhausted from fighting Joker along side him for the previous few days. The kid, no matter the stamina, had to be somewhat exhausted as well. That was one of the reasons he decidedly had taken Damian's katana away. With the increased signs of recklessness yesterday, coupling that with probably some exhaustion, Damian could have potentially hurt himself. After the past couple days, it was best to avoid another potentially dangerous incident. All in all though, it still didn't explain the sweat beads coursing down his sleeping son's face.

"Hmmm..."

Placing a hand on Damian's forehead answered the suspicions. Yes, his son's forehead was much warmer than usual. Actually, it was considerably too warm. Cursing at the rain that had drenched them both the past couples nights, he strained to hear the sound he wished he didn't hear, Damian's wheezing.

Yikes.

Well, he supposed it was safe to presume that Damian had no school today. Fantastic... This was just what they needed, a sick kid. Or much more worse than that, a sick Damian.

Still though, that did not answer his question as to why Damian was here, asleep on his chest. Perhaps his son had tried to awaken him during the night and hadn't succeeded? But then he should have gone to Alfred if that was the case.

Either way, this was bad. By the crackling sounds coming from Damian's lungs and the broiling heat rolling off the body next to him, it was obviously well past time for a dosage of a fever reducer.

This was all rather curious though, he would have pegged Damian to be the sulking in an oversized hoodie, 'Don't bother me. I'm busy being sick and I'm not allowed to go on patrol' type. Hey, even Richard didn't want to be bothered at times when sick. Well, when he first met Richard that was.

Yep, definitely no patrol by the sound of those lungs.

Sitting up as gently as he could manage, he wrapped Damian's arms around his neck attempting to stand without doing his per usual tumbling out of bed.

Biting back a groan as his knee buckled in protest, he forced himself to lean on the bed for a moment while standing.

"#$%# Knee..."

Heaving legs around his waist, he made sure that his passenger was indeed secure for the journey, and headed to the ensuite bathroom. Unfortunately though, Damian continued to be in a deep sleep. It had been hoped that the subtle movement would have gradually awaken Damian. However, in an upright position it did sound as though Damian could now breathe better. At least that was a plus. He'd let Damian sleep for the moment. Now, where would Alfred keep a thermometer?

Alfred was out with some of his British mates on Friday mornings to play some cricket. So, that meant he couldn't just call and ask where a thermometer was without seeming suspicious, and he certainly wasn't leaving Damian to just go get a thermometer down in the cave. Alfred deserved some time off without needlessly worrying and rushing home.

Rummaging through the bathroom cabinet he felt a stirring against his chest right as he found the thermometer. Well its about time.

"Ah ha!" He exclaimed rather loudly uncapping the thermometer.

Unnerved that there were still no protests but instead a simple nudge of a head into his shoulder, he looked down. A soft puffy face leaned against his chest breathing loudly tingled with ear-grating wheezes. Carefully releasing Damian to sit on the sink counter, he gently shook his son's shoulders.

"Come on Damian. Wake up."

"..."

With no response he shook a bit more aggressively, "Come on Dami you gotta wake up."

"...Mpfhhh... I dgon't gantz to." 

"I know son, but I'm going to check your temperature."

Slipping the thermometer into the now frowning mouth he waited for the device to beep. In doing so, he holds Damian upright as the the countertop was currently being mistaken for a bed.

"You should have waked me up last night if your fever was this ba- hey! Be careful your going to slip off the counter."

Fortunately he caught Damian's legs from sliding off the counter. This lethargic behavior was more than just unsettling, it was scary.

It took a couple of attempts to procure an accurate reading since Damian kept coughing, thus spitting out the thermometer by mistake. The sound of that congestion really didn't sound good. Hearing the device beep finally, he took it out of Damian's mouth whistling a high pitch. It was 99.8. Yep, that was unfortunate. So there he continued on the 'great' search through the bathroom cabinets once again.

"That is pretty high Dami. How about some ibuprofen and tea?"

"Witsh blown zsugar." A tiny voice slurred confidently followed by a slumping against him.

Patting the boys head, he nodded reassuringly, "Yes. With brown sugar."

Continuing to search in the mirror medicine cabinet, he continued glancing down at Damian who continued to cough. Damian wasn't acting at all like himself. Not that he would expect him too in this condition. Though, normally he would have presumed that he would have had to hunt the boy down to at the very least take some medicine, but for him to so willingly go along?

It really wouldn't, or couldn't be that easy, right? There had to be a catch. There always was a catch. Either he was to 'catch' a little flying robin or he was 'catch' the bug himself, or both.

After several minutes of being very tempted to just call Alfred, he finally found the liquid ibuprofen. Ho-Ho! Flipping the bottle over to read the back for an expiration date, he became so involved in reading that his concentration broke as he recognized an all to familiar choking sound.

Blech.

Stopping the methodical rhythm of rubbing Damian's hair with one hand, he placed the bottle down beginning to rub circles on Damian's back until the choking stopped.

After having multiple kids, with multiple incidents just like now, that sound becomes ingrained in your memory all to well. Looking down, he grimaced noticing his soiled black tee and Damian's soiled pajamas. Oh, and the floor, how lovely. Those socks were once his favorite.

"'ana 'asaf..."

"Don't be." He whispered noting how Damian was slipping into his Arabic tongue. Must be the high fever.

Without hesitation, he picked Damian back up and just sat him on the floor of the tub. It would just be easier this way. Pulling the black tee over his own head, he lazily dropped it next to him on the floor along with his socks. Procuring a towel from a nearby cabinet, he hurriedly threw it on the floor so his knee wouldn't give him agony.

Noting that Damian was beginning to slip lower into the tub he immediately knelt beside it. Quickly beginning to fiddle with Damian's night shirt, he got smacked on the wrist in the process. Uh? Needless to say the sudden move surprised him, Damian grumbled in a hoarse voice about being able to do it himself. Shrugging, he quickly retreated into the bedroom to retrieve a new shirt and pair of socks for himself.

Getting handed a pair of soiled batman embroidered pajamas a few moments later though, caused him to scrunch his face as he misjudgedly tossed it behind him on the other side of the room. Probably a bad idea. Especially so, considering the pile resounded with a splat as they had hit the wall and slid down slowly. It left a trail of residue on the wall. Yuck.

"We uh... won't tell Alfred about that." He whispered more so to himself hoping to have the bathroom spick and span before Alfred even came home. **Hoped.**

Watching a smirk mixed with glazed eyes rise upon the boy's face, he couldn't help but notice the trembles radiating off of Damian's body as he was only left in a pair of shorts. He needed to hurry.

Turning the bath faucet on, he got to work as he splashed the yuck off where it was found with slightly warm water and a nearby rag. Gazing around the room his eyes landed on a cup to use. Ah ha! Filling it he poured it ontop of Damian's head. Perfect. This should work.

Or Not.

As Damian gave a shivering glare through feverish eyes, he instinctively handed the cup on over to Damian to do it himself.

Instead, the plastic cup joined the pile of soiled clothes as it was thrown across the room.

Great.

* * *

  
Once Damian was clean, a fluffy orange towel was wrapped around the boy securely. Although Damian still felt quite warm to the touch, the bath did seem to have rejuvenated his awareness a bit. Good, at the very least Damian should be now feeling better. Hopefully.

Dragging a bin nearby, for just in case, Damian sat on the bed as the damp towel had been replaced for a long black tee that had been laying around with some socks. He wasn't too keen on the idea of straying too far just yet to get some of Damian's regular pajamas. Those lungs still didn't sound too good either. Probably a good idea to call Leslie on over. Puenomia can spiral quick, especially in kids.

Also another alarming notion, Dami was acting rather unusual at the moment as he was clinging to him. Legit clinging on to him in a death grip. Or at least to the baggy side of his sweatpants. Strange. Must still be the fever. Damian normally did not act like this, then again he had never seen his son so sick as this before. Hurt? Yes. Injured? Yes. He had seen all his sons in both situations before, that's the cons that come with the job they all do, but never had he ever seen Damian sick. Not even with the sniffles. Hm.

Pulling gently at his own pant leg he was able to slip away from Damian's tight grip. Thank goodness. Again, strange, but it was slightly heartwarming that Damian wanted him near even if it was just subconsciously. Quickly retreating into the bathroom, he sidestepped the pile of sick still on the floor.

Ick.

Confirming that the ibuprofen wasn't expired, hurray, he poured some into a medicine cup. Double checking that this was the proper dosage, he headed back into the bedroom to see Damian trying to sit up on his own. Pft, can't even leave for a second can he? Quickly picking a pillow up from the side he placed it behind his struggling robin's back. There.

Tucking Damian in with a blanket, he handed over the cap of medicine unsure of what the response might be, "There you go."

With no response besides the crossing of arms and a glare at the cap of medicine in disgust, he bit back a sad chuckle. Well. Suppose he really can't blame Dami, he wouldn't like that stuff either.

Sitting on the edge the bed, he ushered again, "Come on Damian. Lets see if we can get that fever down. It will help you feel better."

"..."

"Damian." 

Damian quivered uncrossing his arms to finally snatch the little container of medicine. Success perhaps?

"..."

Alas, he just remained looking at it for several minutes. Well, boo.

"I would like to say just staring at it helps, but it unfortunately does not."

All he heard in response was a faint whisper. Huh? Leaning over to hear better, a thought passed over his mind that he must be getting old.

"What?"

"Ey dgon't vant it." Damian coughed with a quick glance that made him unsure whether or not this too was going to decorate the wall. Almost ducking, he sighed.

"It will help you to feel better. It will bring your fever down and help-"

"Ey stvill dgon't vant it."

Sighing, he pinched the top of his brow. He was worried that this would happen. Richard used to do the same, refusing to take medicine. Such as struggle back then as it was right now, maybe even more so. Damian was so much more stubborn though than Richard ever was, well at least in the childhood years. There was no convincing Richard, and now there's no convincing Damian. If he continued to push Damian it would only make it worse. Geez. A long time ago, Alfred and him weren't sure what to do when Richard wouldn't take any medicine so what would they do now- oh... OH! Eureka!

"Damian?" He asked rushed as the letters came out a bit muffled.

"..."

"Prehaps we play a game, or make a deal of sorts?"

"A gahame, a beal?" Dear goodness, he prayed this would work.

"Yes. It was something I used to play with Richard when he was younger."

Oops... wait, maybe comparing Dami to Richard wasn't such a good idea.

"Tt. Gahames. Gahames are for imbessiles like Grafson... or brake... I don't play gahames."

Ok, definitely wasn't a good idea.

"Says the one that's refusing to take his medicine."

Oh, there we are. Back at it with the arm cross as Damian juggled the medicine cap between two fingers huffing. Ha.

"I see no beason to inguest any susbance that bastes like... dat!" Damian retorts looking at the medicine with disgust. Well, again, Damian did have a point there.

"What if I tell you I can make it taste better?"

Well. That really got his attention. Damian who had been just looking down at the bed sheets looked up. "Vetter?"

"Yes better." He couldn't help but say with a smile spreading across his face. "There was a specific portion of a song that me and Grayson used to sing. Really, its not as childish as you propose it to be. All you have to do is close your eyes, and on the third verse, you have to down the medicine in one go as quick as you can. With well, you know, without choking. Obviously."

"Whavbt den?" Damian scoffs, or whatever that phlegm gargled noise was.

"Well," He shrugs. "That is a surprise."

"I dgon't like surbrises."

"Well, what if its a good surprise?"

"Debends on wat yoob bean by 'goude'."

Rolling his eyes, he now crossed his own arms smirking. Father like son.

"A treat. Such as a sweet treat. It is a secret that... 'sugar helps the medicine go down'."

"..."

"What do you say?" 

This just had to work. It was the only way he could think of that didn't involve Alfred, Leslie, or a sedative... a very strong sedative.

"Berhaps... But vhy nogt givef me da sweet dow? I cee nog logikal vbeason."

"Well, it is simply not how the game works Dami. You see, you take your medicine and then you get a sweet. See?"

"..."

"Pftph... I svill cee nog logikal vbreason to inguest any susbance like dhis. But, in expectshu- expestsasu-EXPESTushUn obf reciebving a sweet I vbwill allvow it."

Rolling his eyes he nodded, "Ok then, lets give it a try. Close your eyes."

Smiling with a snort as Damian obediently closed his eyes with a slight pout he began off awkwardly, "A spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down. The medicine go down-wown. The medicine go down! Just a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down. In a most delightful way!" 

Suddenly, a small hand finds its way to grip the hem of his shirt.

"A robin feathering his nest, has very little time to rest! While gathering his bits of twine and twig, though quite intent in his pursuit he has a merry tune to toot! He knows a song will move the job along - forrrrr-" He smiles at the second verse's lyrics as he hunts through his nightstand drawer.

He reaches over a bit closer so Damian doesn't have to stretch him arm so far to hold unto the hem of his shirt.

"A Spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down. The medicine go down-wown. The medicine go down! Just a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down. In a most delightful way!" He finishes, as Damian downs the whole container in one swallow slightly coughing.

Handing over an apricot lollipop that he found, he ruffled Damian's hair as the lollipop was snatched being quickly devoured.

Noticing that Damian was only using one hand to open the lollipop wrapper along with his teeth he smiled knowing. Looking down he saw that the little hand still was grasping at the hem of his shirt. How Preciou-

"Well ain't that just #$%# precious."

Whipping around at the sound of Jason's voice, he was about to ask what he was doing here when he noticed Tim standing beside Jay with pounding footsteps running down the hall.

Oh no. Richard please, you didn't did you?

"I'M COMING LIL' D!!!"

Suddenly, the little hand gripped tighter as it was accompanied by an all too familiar sound again.

Blech.

* * *

"You wanna come sit with me lil' D?"

"I h'am berfectly co'gerfortable." A congested voice seethes as it is curled on top his lap.

"Never knew that the Devil Spawn was such a cuddl-owIiiIEEE!" Jason begins as Richard smacks a pillow across his face.

"SHH JAY!"

He simply smirks as Damian simply curls tighter around his arm. "Imbekiles."

"Imbeciles because they care about you?"

"Nob, imbekiles bebause zheir NoIzY." Damian responds raising his voice to the highest whisper that could be manged. Which, really wasn't much if he was completely honest.

Nonetheless, with Tim nearby drugged out on some camomile tea and antibiotics, hit two birds with one Intervention, there was a response, "Mmm... I Ay's gree's. Zere's too noise-ey." 

"Bis iz z fwirsts, and onlees bime h'ams going to ba' grees wifs vou."

"Mhhm.. o's kay... bwrat." Tim slurrs leaning heavier on his shoulder by the minute.

"Dogs bdreath."

"Insults are meansszz..."

"Zour fbace is an inzult."

"Hmpfhss... Short-teesz."

"Actzulie Dogs bdreath is bess repulshive ban dours coffee-holic."

"And thats an insult, howz?"

"pfft. I bwas simbply tvellingz the fac-"

"AHHH. STOP IT YOU @#$%!" Jason suddenly screams from a few meters away being chased by a 'pillow monster'.

"How do theyss have so much energyszz?"

"mbbmft-bzsSays dey onez ooh literzees brives on energee brinks."

"Shut up."

"I abreez. Do szuts ups."

"Ha, second time."

"Secons bime?"

"Second timess thatz you hafs agreeds with me, and its in a spans of lessszz thans five minutesz."

"SzUts UpS BrAkE bEfoURs I-"

"GOOD HEAVENS!" A British voice cries upstairs.

Laying on the floor, Jason raises an eyebrow as Richard is pinning him down. "You left the mess in the bathroom didn't you?"

With a simple nod and shrug, panic seemed to slip into Jason's eyes.

"Oh MY @#$%! Take cover." Richard says diving for the couch.

"Umpgh!"

Ow, did everyone have to lunge towards the couch all at once?

Everyone quickly piles on top of the couch shuffling around.

...

"Does everyone have to crush me?" he asks as he's suddenly pushed down on the couch being smothered.

"I'm not." Richard replies.

He groans. Thanks, like that really helps.

Closing his eyes, he can hear a small patter of steps rushing down the steps. Almost wanting to call out telling Alfred not to rush down the stairs, he bit his tongue not wanting to ruin the facade of sleep for Jason and Richard.

...

"mhm.. Cozy." A very small voice whispers hoarsely sounding as if it was drifting off to sleep.

"Thisz times I woods hafs toz agreez withs you brwat."

And with that he smiles, because a simple little hand has reached over to find his pulling his arm backwards and towards a chest hugging it as if it was a stuffed animal. So what if he couldn't feel his arm due to lack of blood flow when he woke up, it would all be worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> Thankyou for everyone who has taken the time to read this story! (づ￣ ³￣)づ  
> -  
> Disclaimer:  
> Now, Major stuff!  
> *Gets Bat-Mega Phone*  
> I DO NOT OWN DC!  
> I DO NOT OWN BATMAN OR ANY CHARACTERS AND/OR STORYLINES!  
> -  
> My Tumblr if yer interested:  
> WizzyPieHigh9 / ForgetCanon  
> ʘ‿ʘ  
> -  
> (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･: *ヽ(◕ヮ◕ヽ)  
> -  
> I do not own the random Derpy text faces. Btw... Just thought I'd point that out.  
> -  
> This Story has two Sources: \ (•◡•) /  
> 1) Multiple sources for example Interjections  
> 2) Song credit for "Spoonful of Sugar" Goes to Mary Poppins
> 
> This Story is "Completed"... \ (•◡•) /


End file.
